In the soft sand, the footprints once remained,
A testament to a journey known,
A wondering soul, the shoreline pointed me in its own direction,
The security of a compass not my own.

The waves then came, and washed it all away.

On the rocky incline, something more mine,
I found myself in the courage each footfall demands,
The challenge of the thinned air,
The struggle to breathe renews the belief I have…

…in me.
There are some things the waves can never wash away.

To rest on stone washed by a million drops of rain,
To brush off dust left by winds so long ago,
To touch the flesh of trees who have stories of their own,
I am so blessed, to be such a young, forgotten one.

We have this folly in our minds,
Addicted to the sanctimony of our supposed injury,
The stories we hold on to in our delusions of grandeur.
I wish to hold on to nothing then, but me.

And then, I will be free.

I’ve found love in the echoes of these canyons,
Found myself in that quiet solitude, broken only by a hawk’s song,
Discovered truth under the veils of lies that I was told,
Found life flowing under the stilled currents of its ending.

There is no return to the weakness of my yesterdays,
No gleam in the eyes of the demons in my mind,
A choice made, I would walk to places beyond my imagination,
A choice lived in each end and each beginning.

My foot rises and falls in hope for just another…

The crow sings beyond my window, and I just stare,
It’s wings just beg to touch the sky,
It’s talons just want to grasp at solid footing,
But its soul…it’s soul will use what it must to get it there.

A dove flew by and I swear it peeked into my heaven,
Please, my friend, tell me what to do.
Alone I sit, befuddled by my mental indignation,
“Come back to me, and teach me how to fly.”

A sigh, I sit alone some more.